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It surely is an ill wind that blows no good. The winter storms
that resulted in the devastating sea surge along the east coast during December
2013 caused extensive damage to the overall ecosystem of the North Norfolk marshlands
and dune systems, the effects of which still resonate. Most of the affected
areas are only slowly recovering. And yet........ At NWT Cley Marshes for instance there is more shingle now, piles
of it; powered 100 metres inland by the uncontested might of the rampant North Sea.
This mass of eroded rock fragments has covered some grassland where skylarks
used to sing their sweet song and has smothered small pools where tiny starlet sea
anemones once dwelled. But it has also created opportunities for those birds
that love to nest on these exposed expanses and has allowed NWT reserve staff
to fence off large tracts of the newly extended habitat to create larger undisturbed
zones. To date little ringed plovers and avocets have taken advantage of these
quieter areas an…

Great skuas are tremendously powerful birds and the northern isles of Gt Britain holds a substantial breeding population. Here they raise their chicks on the extensive moorland, protecting them fearlessly from trespassing sheep, other skuas and humans. One of their main food sources is the vast number of other seabirds using the steep cliffs of the islands as a summer home. We watched some of these pirates harassing gannets fishing offshore, forcing these much larger birds to disgorge their catch so they could pilfer the spoils. But the more sinister and ruthless side of the Bonxie was to be witnessed amongst the throng of auks nesting on Marwick Head on Mainland Orkney. Here they would cruise along the cliff face ever watchful for unattended chicks or vulnerable lone birds fishing close inshore. Once a victim had been chosen there was no escape. Impressive birds, but deadly.

Remember the
Tufty Club? No, of course you don't, you're all way too young. Well, let me
enlighten you. The Tufty Club was the hub of a road awareness campaign run
during the 1950s and 60s, its figurehead, inspiration and main star being Tufty
Fluffytail, a red squirrel. Children were urged to join the club and received a
badge for their trouble. It was very successful and certainly engendered in us
kids the need to be careful when crossing the road. The fact the powers that be
chose a red squirrel to connect with children goes to show what a familiar and
endearing creature it once was; every wood and park had them. Tufty and his
pals held sway until the introduction of that Darth Vader in the making the
Green Cross Code Man, aka David Prowse. It wasn't the same. Red squirrels
are, as we all know, our native squirrel, the only true wild squirrel
inhabiting our countryside. Only it is now absent from most of it. Vast tracts
of lowland Britain are now populated only by the a…

It's been raining here in Orkney, every blasted second of this miserable, grey, cold and windy July day. Sheeting down from low thick cloud from dawn, which happened at about 1am, until dusk which will occur very soon at midnight. Everybody has been walking around cloaked in Goretex with long sleeves, long trousers and even longer faces seeking indoor means of entertainment. Not an easy task on an island that caters far more for sheep than people. Still the roses look nice.

It was a different story yesterday. Then the sun broke through around midday transforming the drab of the moors into sheets of verdant green; the sea from steely grey to bright vibrant blue; the meadows to carpets of buttercup gold. Beautiful.

At Marwick Head on Mainland watching fulmars ride the updrafts over high sea cliffs was exhilarating. The birds stalling into the breeze at eye level, demonstrating ably their complete mastery of the air, is one of those sights that would make anyone with any sense of ae…

From a distance it looks like snow. Only when you look closer with the aid of high powered optics do you realise the snowflakes have wings. Gannets. Tens of thousands of gannets. Wheeling around a tall offshore slab of volcanic rock, festooning every conceivable nook on its barren surface, carpeting the ledges, cramming onto narrow shelves and forming floating flotillas around its base. A truly awesome sight that cannot fail to impress all who make the short boat trip to experience the spectacle that is nesting season on Bass Rock.

As you draw nearer to the colony small parties of these large ocean wanderers appear close to. Some have clumps of seaweed in their beaks; males arrowing single-mindedly towards the rock to reinforce their nests. Others have possibly been fishing far away from home, perhaps off the Norwegian coast, and are returning to feed their single young. But it is only when the sheer cliffs loom close, dwarfing your tiny boat and rendering it and all its passengers in…

I live in Norfolk, I've always lived in Norfolk and will undoubtedly do so until this body of mine throws in the towel. I love wildlife and have done so since a very young age. Can't see that changing either. Having much time on my hands my aim now is to see as much wildlife as I can from as many places as I can afford to reach. The plan is to document some of my experiences and thoughts here for others to share.